The Tower of Sorcery

by James Galloway

  "No," they said in unison. "We don't leave your sight until the spell is off Jesmind," Tarrin added.

  "I'm afraid I can't trust you anymore, Keeper," Jesmind said with hot eyes. "So we're going to keep an eye on you until you uphold your end of the bargain." She crossed her arms under her breasts, giving the diminutive woman an icy stare. "And I expect you to live up to our previous bargain as well. I promised not to touch Tarrin on the Tower grounds. And I'll uphold that. In return, I can come and go as I please."

  "You threaten to kill me, and then you make demands of me, in my own office," the Keeper snorted. "You are either insanely brave or monumentally stupid."

  Jesmind was about to say something, but Tarrin put a paw over her mouth. "Just let it drop," he told her.

  "But--"

  "Let it go," he said. She glared at him, but his powerful gaze made her lower her eyes. Then he saw those eyes harden. She was obviously flaring up at being stared down. "I'm not going to fight with you, no matter how pecky you get," he warned. "So just put it away."

  "Pecky?" she repeated hotly. "You watch yourself, cub, or I'll tan your backside and shave your tail with a board! You're not too old to spank!"

  "You even try, and I'll strip you bare and hang you out the Keeper's window like a flag," he retorted. "The whole city will see you in all your glory."

  Jesmind actually blushed. That was most satisfying, with what she'd done to him in the past.

  "Children!" the Keeper barked. "Can't the two of you stay peaceful even for five minutes?"

  "No," they said in unison.

  She threw up her hands. "Goddess, deliver me from this nightmare!" she cried out in a plaintive voice, then she sat back down. "Tarrin, for my sanity, please take my spare robe down from the peg behind the door and put it on. You're driving me crazy standing there with no clothes on."

  He nodded, pulling down the dark silk robe. It was comically small, barely stretching around his chest, and not even reaching his knees. Jesmind laughed when she saw it, and Tarrin sighed forlornly. The Keeper motioned to him. "I'll fix that," she said. He came over to her, and he felt that peculiar sensation of drawing in, then she put her hands on the robe.

  It quickly and silently grew out, falling to the floor and fitting him loosely and comfortably. Its basic style even changed, going from a feminine garment to a gender-neutral one.

  "Neat trick," he noted.

  "It makes fitting new clothes easy," she shrugged. "It's one thing that we'll teach you here. Any Sorcerer that can touch Earth can do that."

  "Touch?"

  "There are seven spheres of Sorcery, Tarrin," she said. "Since Sorcery is the magic of the world, they represent the powers that make up and influence our world. Earth, Air, Fire, and Water, which represent the physical world. Mind, Divine, and the sphere of Confluence, or Energy, which represent the mystical aspects of the world. Some Sorcerers have a particular affinity for one Sphere. Some can't touch a particular Sphere at all. It's entirely personal. Most Sorcerers can touch all six spheres, but they're not equally strong in them. Most that can't touch all six can only touch four or five, but they're very powerful in at least one of the spheres they can touch."

  "I thought there were seven," he said.

  "There are. The sphere of Confluence can't be used by a single person. It's the sphere of Ritual Sorcery. It takes at least two Sorcerers to use it."

  "Why?"

  "We don't really know," she shrugged. "It just is." Duncan appeared quietly at the door. "Good. They're here?"

  "Yes, Keeper."

  "Bring them in, and let's get this overwith."

  Tarrin stepped back and watched the quiet happenings curiously. There wasn't any senseless chatter. They didn't even stand in any particular formation. But the sensation of drawing in was there, and it was powerful. Tarrin seemed to sense that, as a group, they could wield more raw power than the seven of them acting individually. As if the sum of their parts was a greater whole.

  That, Tarrin remembered, was what set Sorcerers apart from all the other orders of magicians. Sorcerers could link together, forming circles, and use their power in a combined effort. The Priests could mimic some of that ability, but only where consecrating ground or curing curses was concerned.

  Jesmind's form seemed to waver for a moment, and then she sighed explosively. "About time!" she growled. "Don't ever do that me again!"

  "Just leave, Jesmind," the Keeper said stonily.

  "Fine." She gave Tarrin a strange look. "Until later."

  "I'll be waiting."

  "You do that," she said with a wink, then she left the Keeper's office.

  "He's very strong, isn't he?" a dark-haired woman said, one of the members of the Council. "I could feel the edges of him when we linked."

  "He's used his power," a very tall amber-haired man remarked. "He has the touch on him."

  "Yes," the Keeper remarked. Tarrin felt very uncomfortable with the seven of them staring at him. "For obvious reasons, he just can't go back to the Novitiate. We need to give him the Test, and place him in the Initiate."

  "Tomorrow," Ahiriya agreed.

  "Tarrin, go back to your room," the Keeper commanded. "It's still the same one. Put your Novice uniform back on. I'll send someone for my robe later. Oh, and do let Allia know you're back? She's been about ready to kill since you left."

  "I will," he said. "What about my family?"

  "I'll send word. They've bought a house out in the city, and are living out there."

  "Thank you," he said. He bowed sinuously, then quickly evacuated the room. All those eyes on him was giving him a very uneasy feeling.

  It felt strange being back in his room. All of his things were there, untouched, though he had no doubt that the Sorcerers searched through it at least five times. He still had no idea how long he was gone, but the memory of the room was still fresh, as if the suspension of time had preserved all those memories.

  He didn't even have time to open his chest and pull out his clothes before the door banged open loudly. Allia, her lovely face contorted in a mask of both rage and joy, stalked into the room. He didn't even get a chance to greet her before she reared back and punched him dead in the jaw. Tarrin staggered back, spitting out a tooth knocked loose by the blow. He tried to get his hands up as she rushed at him, but found her clutching to him tightly in a fierce embrace. "Don't you ever do that again!" she commanded in a strangled voice.

  "I missed you too," he said dryly, licking a bit of blood off his lip. The tooth was growing back, which made the inside of his mouth itch.

  Things were different now. He and Allia talked at length as they walked, keeping moving so the Keeper's eyes couldn't pin them down, speaking in Selani to avoid their words reaching the Keeper's ears. He told her about his time in the city, with Janette and her family, and he was brutally honest about the sensations, the guilt, and then finally the tenuous balance he had managed to achieve. He told her about things he wouldn't even tell his mother, and she listened with that same gentle patience that so drew him to her. He then told her about the episode with Jesmind, the spell, and the look that the Council gave him after they were done.

  "They want something from me," he said bluntly. "I don't know what it is, but that's obvious now. They'd never have put this much attention on any other novice, even one as strong in Sorcery as they say I am."

  "I know. After you left, they started paying me that attention," she grunted. "They gave me the Test. Would you believe that I can do Sorcery?"

  "Really?" he asked in interest.

  "I'm not that strong in it, but it is there," she affirmed. "They said that I couldn't make my life's work out of it, as if I wanted to do that, but I think that knowing a few spells here and there wouldn't be a bad idea."

  "It could be handy," he agreed.

  "They are keeping us together," she said. "When you go into the Initiate, I'll go at the same time." She scratched her cheek. "It's not like they're teaching me anything, or anything. I'm b
asically just wasting time here."

  They ended up in the courtyard in the center of the hedge maze. This place of peace quickly soothed Tarrin's nerves, and he sat on the bench and relaxed as Allia inspected the large wild roses that grew at the back end of the courtyard. She tended them when they visited the courtyard, trying to coax them into growing large, beautiful blossoms. Tarrin spent that time staring at the statue, remembering those simple words that had drifted into his mind the last time he was here.

  Faith.

  He believed that he had found some. By coming into such close contact with the Cat, he had faith that it wasn't out to kill him. Though they would struggle for dominance in his mind, he knew then that the Cat was not his enemy. He knew that he had to be stronger than it was, to assert his authority. As long as he could do that, then everything would be fine. He had found faith in himself, a confidence that things just might turn out for the best. Things didn't seem so gloomy.

  It amazed him that he had always thought that way. To him, before, each day was just one step closer to that ultimate end, either by Jesmind's claws, or this mysterious enemy, the Cat, or even his own hand. But now, now he felt that there was a chance that he just may come out of this alive.

  He stood up and walked through the fountain, standing at the base of the tall statue. He could never get tired of staring at that lovely face, or those life-like eyes. "What are you doing, Tarrin?" Allia asked.

  "Just looking," he replied. "Me and this statue are good friends. She's a good listener."

  "And I'm not?" she asked impishly.

  "When you're around, you are," he replied.

  "Tarrin, look at this," Allia called.

  Tarrin went up on his toes and leaned into the statue, looking over its dainty shoulder. Allia had reached deeply into the wild, tree-like rosebush she was working with, and as he watched, she carefully pulled out a shaeram. It was very, very old, Tarrin could tell even from that distance, made of silver, and with a small diamond set into the center of the four-pointed star at the core of the symbol. "Its ancient," Tarrin said, "but it's not rusted."

  "Maybe it's magic," Allia said, holding it up. "But it's beautiful. I'd like to keep it."

  "Then keep it," Tarrin said. "You found it."

  "But I'm not worthy of the honor," she protested. "This symbol represents something I am not, and I won't dishonor the katzh-dashi by pretending to be one of them."

  "It's not the symbol of the katzh-dashi," Tarrin said. "It's the symbol of their Goddess. Since you can do Sorcery, that gives you the right to wear it."

  Where did that come from?

  "Perhaps you're right," she mused, holding it up to the fading afternoon light. She laid it over her head, then settled it around her neck, carefully pulling her hair through the loop. "I hope the Holy Mother Goddess takes no offense," she said as an afterthought.

  "Why would she?" Tarrin challenged.

  "It's the symbol of another Goddess."

  "Are you going to start worshipping her?"

  "No!"

  "Then you have nothing to worry about," Tarrin shrugged, his voice dismissive in its practicality.

  Allia looked up at the sky. "It's almost dinnertime," she noted. "I'm hungry, too. Let's go."

  "You go on ahead," he said. "I want to stay a few more moments."

  Allia gave him a deep look. "I'll see you in the dinner hall then," she said. He watched her take her leave, and gave her a few moments to get out of earshot.

  He looked up at the statue's face, studying its serene, perfect features, again marvelling at the hand that could, with hammer and chisel, sculpt such incredible detail and beauty. He reached up and cupped that face in his huge paw. "Sorry I was away for so long," he told the statue, "but I wasn't myself for a while. But I'm better now. It must be lonely in here alone all the time, so, to let you know, I'll be visiting you again."

  Believe.

  Tarrin's ears perked up, responding to the voice that had no sound, a choral voice that echoed soundlessly through the courtyard, through his mind, dancing across his awareness like ripples on the surface of a still pond. There it was again!

  For there to be faith, you must believe.

  "Believe in what?" he called curiously.

  Believe in me.

  That completely baffled him. "Believe in you? Who are you?"

  Believe in me.

  The amulet around Tarrin's neck suddenly was very heavy. It felt hot against his skin, then cold, then hot again.

  The amulet, the symbol of the katzh-dashi.

  The amulet, the symbol of the Goddess whom they served. Just as the brand on his shoulder was the symbol of Fara-Nae

  The Goddess.

  Goddess!

  Tarrin gasped in shock, staggering backwards, and then fell into the pool. He sat up, water streaming off of his face, staring up at the nude statue in utter shock. "Goddess!" he gasped.

  There was the most unusual sound. It took him a moment to realize that it was cascading, silvery-bell laughter. Oh, do get up, the voice called in amusement. You look like a drowned rat.

  "You, you, you," he stammered, totally at a loss for words. He quickly rolled over and knelt in the water in front of the statue, the idol-image of the Goddess of the Sorcerers.

  Don't do that! the voice called tartly. I hate it when people do that!

  "Forgive me," he said in meek supplication.

  And don't do that either! she snapped. You talked to me normally before. You can do that again.

  "I, I didn't know who you were, Goddess," he explained.

  It doesn't really matter who I am, the voice called. I don't demand that people act like fools for my benefit. As long as I know how you feel in your heart, I can do without all the bowing and scraping and carrying on. Are you quite finished swimming in my fountain?

  "Uh, yes, Goddess," he said, standing up and keeping his eyes averted.

  What's the matter now? she asked crisply.

  "I don't know what to do," he said quietly.

  Talk to me, she said winsomely. I didn't drag you out here just to have you fawn on me. It doesn't become you.

  "Drag me out?" he asked.

  You think you wanted to come out here yourself? she chuckled. I need to talk to you, my kitten. Away from the others. There are some things you should know.

  That got his attention quickly. "Like what?"

  That's better. Talk to me as you talk to anyone else. As far as answering questions, nothing that you want to hear, I assure you, she said. For now, I wanted you to know that I exist. They'll teach you all about me in the Initiate. To enter it, you have to swear an oath of obediance to me. I know how your mind works. You'd reject such a vow outright. He had to agree. His Cat nature would not allow him to willingly subject himself to the will of another. What I want you to know is that I don't want your obediance, kitten. I want your love.

  "What?"

  I want your love, she repeated. I don't expect it overnight. You've never been what most would call religious, so the concept of loving a deity is new to you. That works both ways, my kitten, she said, her choral, powerful non-voice warm and intimate. I already adore you.

  What that means for the immediate future is this; I won't demand you to uphold the vow that you'll speak to me tomorrow. I'm giving you permission to lie. Just mouth the words to satisfy the Council, and don't ever even think about it again. Oh, and don't think that this will be a common occurence, she said, her voice amused. I do have other things to do.

  "You do this with all Sorcerers?"

  To one degree or another, yes, she replied. I don't directly speak to most of them, but I do listen, and I try to answer as best I can. Just like Allia's Goddess, Fara-Nae, I'm very devoted to my worshippers, so I can afford a bit of personal attention here and there. I couldn't actively talk to you, like we are now, until you believed that I existed. All I could manage were a few words here and there. Are you done asking questions?

  "No, but I think you're done answering
them."

  She laughed, that same choral cascade of bells. You are such a joy, my kitten, she told him. My life will be so much richer with you in it. Just speak the words tomorrow, Tarrin. You don't have to believe them, and know that, on my word and bond as a Goddess, I will not demand you to uphold the vow you will give. I will ask it of you, but I will not demand it of you.

  "Why me?" he asked suddenly. "Why this attention on me?"

  Because you are very special, she replied instantly. Very special indeed. In fact, at this very moment, half the world's interest is set directly on your shoulders. Not all of that interest is friendly...as you may have noticed. Don't even bother asking why, because I can't tell you.

  Just know this, my kitten, she said, her voice sincere and loving. I am here for you. Believe in me, and I will provide for you. Put your trust in me, and I will watch over you. Give your love to me, and I will return it to you tenfold. Have faith in me, and you will never be alone.

  Those words struck him to the core.

  I must go now, she called. Be well, my kitten, and think about my words. I know that you know that I would not lie to you. So think of what I have said, and make your decisions. I will welcome you. The road ahead is long and dangerous, but with my love in your heart, you will never be alone.

  And then the sensation of her power faded, leaving the courtyard dark and strangely empty. The dazzling sparkle in the eyes of the statue seemed to fade away, leaving nothing but the dull stone behind.

  Chapter 10

  Tarrin didn't sleep at all that night.

  The words of this mysterious goddess of the Sorcerers had struck a chord in him that went deeper than he ever thought. She had been right; Tarrin had never been an overly pious person. The concept of actually believing in the gods was quite new to him. Oh, he believed they existed, and his family paid homage to several gods, but didn't actively worship any of them. Now he suddenly had been exposed to the real power and presence of a god, and it had shifted his theological positioning quite profoundly. Not quite believe in her, but have faith in her.

  And she talked just like a person. A real, non-divine person. She seemed to have quite a sense of humor. He rather liked that.